Bells are Gonna Chime
by osmalic
Summary: Ron and Hermione have problems in arranging the wedding of the century, particularly with the bride and the groom. RHr, HG


First posted Harry Potter fic in and was written as a Christmas fic gift for (lj user) wickedsister. A bow to "Get Me to the Church on Time" in "My Fair Lady". Happy holidays to everyone.

**Bells are Gonna Chime**

Ron Weasley paused in the hallway when he heard the muffled shriek from inside the room: "Get out! _Out!"_

There was a crash and someone pleading yet before long Hermione Granger slipped out of ornately decorated double doors, a grim look on her face. She turned to find Ron looking at her with concern.

"She's hyperventilating," Hermione announced matter-of-factly as she led Ron through the hallway.

Ron Weasley stared at her uncomprehendingly before asking confusedly, "Who is?"

"Your sister."

"Which one?"

Hermione smacked him on the arm, making him wince. "Your _sister_, Ron Weasley! You only have one!"

"That _can't_ be Ginny," Ron explained incredulously. Even though his legs had grown longer over the years, he still had to jog in order to keep up with Hermione's furious pace. "You know, because Ginny _wouldn't_ hyperventilate."

"I asked her if she was ready and she began screaming how she was too young and all."

Ron would have laughed if it wasn't for the serious look on Hermione's face. They rounded a corner. "Well, I suppose it's all for the best," he said hesitantly.

Hermione whirled around at him, some tendrils of her bushy brown hair escaping from their tight clip on her head. "Ron Weasley!" she said in her most dangerously hushed tone. "This is _not_ happening half an hour before—"

"It most certainly is," Ron interrupted with a gasp, trying to catch his breath. When Hermione began to tap her foot impatiently, he drew himself up and tugged at dress robes. "Um. You see, Harry—"

"Oh, what would Harry think!" Hermione moaned.

"It's not at all a bad thing?" Ron put in sheepishly. "I...just came from his room and..."

"...And?" The pause and Ron's guilty stance spoke volumes and Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. "He wouldn't!"

"He told me to tell Ginny." Now, Ron sounded positively miserable.

_"Wonderful!"_ Throwing her hands into the air, Hermione began to pace the width of the hallway, gesturing frantically. "Half an hour before their wedding and both the bride and the groom are having second thoughts!"

"Harry _did_ say it was too soon after the war," Ron offered.

"It's been two years!" Hermione thundered. "But Ginny said she's too young—"

"She was the one who proposed to Harry!" Ron said incredulously.

"They're being idiots!"

Ron sighed. "Look, Harry asked me to talk to Ginny and convince her to cancel the wedding. Maybe you should talk to Harry...try to tell him this? Then we can deal with the wedding guests."

Hermione was scowling again but she managed to nod. "Meet you here in five minutes?"

"Right."

They sped off into opposite direction.

* * *

Ron was thirty seconds late, enough to make Hermione tizzy that when the familiar figure skidded around the corner she quickly flew into him. "Where have you been!" she cried, then anxiously, "What's that on your hair?"

"Rouge powder," Ron replied bleakly. "Ginny went ballistic and fired several hexes to...well, _everything._"

Hermione gave a weak laugh. "At least that's all she did. Harry...well. Harry's destroyed almost everything in his room."

"That bad?" Ron asked sympathetically.

The woman sighed. "Worse. He...took it terribly."

Understanding dawned in Ron's eyes. "You mean Harry thought Ginny's rejecting him and now he's furious?"

"Yes!" Frustration lined Hermione's face and she rolled her eyes, resuming her pacing. "He said that if Ginny thought she's too young then _maybe_ she shouldn't have popped the question in the first place! And what would she have thought if Harry agreed to elope with her the first time around! He was _furious_, Ron!"

_"You _think he's furious?" Ron interjected, eyes wide. "You should have spoken to Ginny!"

"Did you manage to speak with her, then?" Hermione asked, finally looking up at him.

It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes. "I _spoke_ since I managed to put in: 'Harry's having second thoughts, too' before she started screaming about him never thinking about her feelings. Then she went right on firing hexes while screeching how Harry always thinks she should always be protected and that he always tries to be some kind of hero, and that he always thinks she's too young to get married—"

"Wasn't that her first complaint?"

"I _know!"_ Ron almost tore off his hair in aggravation, his face as red as his hair. "Argh! We should just give them a piece of our mind!"

Hermione checked her pocket watch. "We have fifteen minutes before the wedding of the year! Maybe we should convince them to just cancel everything for the sake of the guests? It's clear that they haven't thought this through."

"Shocking," Ron said sarcastically, "when it's mostly Tonks and my mother working on the wedding while Ginny and Harry were too busy sneaking off together."

"It's times like these," Hermione pronounced angrily, "that I think I should never get married."

Ron ogled. "Oh."

There was an awkward pause as Hermione realised exactly what she had said. Ron only stared at her, looking more and more disturbed as shee looked horrified.

Finally, the silence was broken with Ron clearing his throat. "I'll talk to Harry," he whispered, voice sounding dejected and hesitant.

There was another lengthy pause as Hermione hesitated, as if wondering whether she should speak or at least touch Ron's arm. However, she settled on squeaking, "Well...I'll take Ginny then."

"Right," Ron said, backing towards the direction of Harry's room.

"Right," Hermione agreed, stepping away. "Er...five minutes?"

"Yes. Right. Make that ten?" Ron crashed into a nearby statue, which seemed affronted; he did not notice. "No...five minutes is fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They briskly turned to their heels and hurried, each noting that their faces had grown hot and red.

* * *

Exactly five minutes later, they met in the same hallway although now they were not alone. Hurrying before Ron was Harry Potter in his newest and stylish red, silver and black dress robes; he was attired fashionably yet it was obvious that determination set his face, as if that time he was ready to face You-Know-Who head-on.

And steps ahead from Hermione was Ginny Weasley, also attired in a more elaborate dress robes in red, silver and white, her hair tied loosely behind her head. Her teeth were gritted in resolution and her fists were clenched at her sides, holding the trails of her dress in order not to trip in her haste.

Behind each of them, Ron met Hermione's face, mirroring his own anxiety and he waved frantically. _No,_ he mouthed, _run now! Danger!_

Hermione's eyes were wide and she also gestured wildly: _It's inevitable!_

Then, quite to these two's astonishment, Ginny and Harry met into the middle of the hallway, arms outstretched to catch each other in a fierce embrace.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed just as Harry cried out, "Gin!"

"You wouldn't believe it!" the red-haired girl told Harry quickly when they pulled away. "Hermione was trying to convince me not to marry you—"

"Did she!" Harry said tearfully. "Ron was saying the exact same thing—"

"—she said I'm too young, the nerve!"

"—and that we're not ready yet!"

"Didn't my idiot brother tell you that I'd go with you?"

Harry kissed her forehead fondly. "I knew that when you followed us to face Voldemort, darling. Hermione should have reminded you that I'll always do what you want."

"I knew that, Harry."

"I knew you'd remember, Ginny."

Gaping, Ron and Hermione simply stared at the couple whose arms were now around each other and were now gazing dotingly at each others' eyes.

"They had no faith in us, I think," Harry told Ginny seriously.

"We'll show them," Ginny told her fiancé fiercely, tightening her hold around him. "We'll show all of them who doubt us."

"We'll pull through this," Harry replied, smiling gently. He turned to his two best friends, a frown on his face. "Well, you two, we're _still_ getting married. I hope you'll never doubt us again."

"Even after all this time," Ginny admonished, "I'd have thought you two already know that we love each other too much to listen to your stupid ideas of cancelling this wedding!"

"But you—" Hermione sputtered as Ron stammered, "You two didn't—"

Yet the young couple were not listening anymore. Harry smiled into Ginny's eyes. "Ready, Mrs-Weasley-Potter-to-be?" he teased.

"Ready, Mr-Weasley-Potter-to-be," Ginny Weasley replied warmly.

* * *

As it was, there was no reason for Ron and Hermione to set things straight. Instead, Harry and Ron made their way into the Great Hall together where the guests and news-reporters were all waiting, straining to catch a glimpse of "The Boy Who Lived" getting married. There was a big grin on Harry's face as a hushed silence swept the room when Hermione entered, followed by Ginny being escorted by a proud Molly Weasley and a sobbing Arthur. Standing in the normally drab dining area that sheltered them throughout the years of their education and, indeed, through a difficult war, Harry and Ginny Weasley-Potter seemed to glow under the enchantments of the night sky illuminating the roof. The guests and survivors of the war all heaved a sigh as the Minister of Magic pronounced the beginning of the first wedding after the series of funerals, a symbol of a new beginning. The bride's family stood proudly and shed a few tears, from Bill standing next to his pregnant wife, to Charlie in his tight dragon-hide jacket, to Percy who was clearly sobbing, and down to Fred and George who were alternately laughing and cheering.

Across the aisle, enough to signify that they were representing both the bride and the groom, Ron and Hermione stood together, watching intently as their two best friends accepted the responsibilities of their union.

And when Harry and Ginny pronounced their vows, Hermione reached out slightly, letting her left hand brush against Ron's with fingers entwining in nonchalance yet with resolution. Ron squeezed her hand assuredly in response.

Without met gazes, without spoken words, both smiled and cheered, and silently made their own vows.

**- end -**


End file.
